Curiouser and Curiouser
by Make a Wish17
Summary: Our story begins with a lone figure, walking the streets of Victorian London...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

This is the story of a girl.

A girl whose life and happiness were taken away from her in an instant.

A girl who is frozen in time.

A girl who is scarred from her past.

A girl who is scared for her future.

A girl who has been alone from the very beginning.

All alone.

This is the story of a monster.

This is Abigail's story.


	2. The Beginning

**London 1884**

Our story begins with a lone figure, walking the dark streets of Victorian London. Abigail Rosemary was returning home from her usual nightly walk in the park, a pastime labeled as 'stupid' and 'dangerous' by the rest of the city's residents. It was in fact, stupid and dangerous for Abigail to wander the city at night, but seeing as she'd ever only had a few minor incidents concerning her walk, which she had easily taken care of herself, she felt confident enough to continue to brave the cold streets alone.

"Damn it's cold," she muttered, shivering. She drew her coat closer to shield her small body from the icy air creeping through the many streets and alleyways of the city. She admitted to herself that tonight probably wasn't the best night to take her walk, and cursed herself for not donning a warmer outfit. The merciless wind had succeeded in tangling her blonde locks into a disastrous mess, one which would take Abigail a good half an hour to sort out once she got home. She cringed at the mere thought of it.

"Why in the world didn't I just stay home? Mother and Father are going to give me hell when they see me." The sixteen year-old groaned in frustration. "Stupid wind, stupid cold, stupid shoes, stupid-," she stopped in the midst of her complaining to the sickening feeling of being watched. She picked up her pace and quickly glanced behind her, smart enough to know not to stop and call out like a helpless child, and was slightly relieved to see no one there.

"I'm just a bit paranoid," she reasoned, shrugging it off. "And besides, if anyone decides to mess with me, I can take them."

"Can ya' now?" A dangerous voice wafted through the air. Abigail spun around to find a dark, lanky figure standing about two yards behind her.

"Yes, that's right." She glared. "I'll have you know I'm a skilled fighter, trained by the Capitan of the Guard himself, Edward Rosemary, my father." She stood tall, not wavering in the slightest. "Still wanna mess with me?" she challenged. The figure chuckled.

"I'm sure I can take a little girl like you," continued the thick scottish accent. The man stepped under a gas lamp, bringing his appearance to light. The girl gasped, he was beautiful. Hair as black as night, skin as white as snow, eyes as green as a summer forest, and lips as red as blood.

'No.' Abigail thought. 'Lips red WITH blood.' Her own blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Besides," the young man continued, walking closer. "I'm no ordinary sewer rat," he licked his lips of the remaining blood and smirked, revealing the last thing Abigail expected. Fangs.

"Oh shit." She turned and ran, as fast as her delicate legs could carry her. "Shit shit shit shit shit." She could hear the man laugh behind her, amused by her use of profanities.

"Not very lady-like now are we?" he called, too close for Abigail's liking.

"Not really!" she responded earning another laugh. Her manor was in sight, and she desperately willed herself faster. "Almost there!" And then, she tripped. "DAMNNIT!" she cursed as she fell to the ground. She quickly flipped herself on her back, surprised to see the man already standing over her. 'Shit he's fast…' She kicked out her foot, attempting to swipe his legs out from under him, but the man evaded her attack with ease. "What?" She growled, scrambling to her feet. She threw punch after punch at his face and stomach, but he dodged them at an inhuman speed. 'The fuck is this guy?!' Abigail threw one last punch, which the man caught with ease.

"I'm sorry that I have to cut our little game short, but I'm getting hungry," he growled. He pulled Abigail to his chest, and smirked as she tried to fight her way out of his grip. "That won't do any good deary," he lazily drawled.

"Let me go!" She shouted. "Let me go damnnit!" He was too strong for her, and too quick for any of her tricks. This was something Abigail had never experienced. She looked up and was filled with an emotion she had ever rarely felt, fear.

"You're amusing, I'll give ya that. And fairly interesting. Maybe I won't kill ya after all. What's your name sweetie?" He grinned.

"A-Abigail."

"Well Abigail, you're in luck. It looks like you're not gonna die today." Said girl let out a sigh of relief. "Well," he continued flashing a razor-sharp smile, "More or less." Before Abigail had any time to react, his teeth were at her throat, drinking in her blood, her life force. Her struggles became weaker, and everything began to get dimmer and dimmer. Just when she thought her time in this world was up, he stopped. The man studied her limp form thoughtfully. "Hmmm… We seem to be cutting it a bit close now, don't we?"

"W…wha?" Suddenly she felt something warm and sweet trickle down her throat. It tasted like- "Blood?" She realized the man had slit his wrist, and positioned it over her lips, forcing her to drink. 'It's so sweet.' She thought. 'It's so good. I want more.' Abigail greedily lapped up the blood, forgetting entirely who she was and what was happening. All that mattered was the blood, that heavenly elixir.

The man watched her and chuckled. "Good girl. Good girl. You'll do fine in my world, I can tell…." He removed his wrist from her mouth, earning a cry from Abigail.

"I want more." She demanded grogilly.

"And you'll have more. As much as you want. But later love." He smirked. "Aye, name's Arthur by the way. Remember me." He snapped her neck, and chuckled to himself. "I'll surely remember you."


End file.
